Page 72 of Death Raiser

“I’m already in a lot of pain.” Actually, everything had started to go numb and my head grew light, which worried me the most. “How much more uncomfortable can it get?”

“It’s not that kind of discomfort. At least not for a necromancer.” He reached forward and ripped off the makeshift bandage. The blood soaked moss fell to the ground with a loud plop. He placed his hand over the wound and death magic flooded the air around us. His power was immense, suffocating. The magic coiled around my arm like a snake and without notice struck. Power flooded my system and dark warmth from within answered. Heat pooled low in my belly as pleasure tingled every nerve ending in my body.

I moaned and sagged into Leviathan. His strong arms caught me as his magic continued to pump into me.

“Imagine how good things would be between us,” he whispered into my ear. “I can give you things. I can make you feel, truly feel. None of those drabs can make you ache the way I can.”

Apparently, the discomfort was sexual and now I was really turned on.

Yet it wasn’t the Lord of the Veil’s face I saw when I closed my eyes and pleasure swept through me.

Nope.

I saw Connor.

I really should’ve kissed him.

“All done.” Leviathan’s deep voice grabbed my attention, and I snapped my eyes open to find myself still cradled in his arms.

I pushed away from Leviathan’s rock hard body, and he dropped his arms. His magic eased away, leaving me with a feeling of emptiness.

Leviathan nodded at my healed wound. “It will still ache for a few weeks. The new skin might break and bleed. It’s very thin and tender. I could do more if we exchanged blood.”

Alarm bells blared in my head. I shoved my hands in my pockets. “The wound is already so much better. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I can’t say that’s how I imagined starting our date, but I also can’t say I’m upset over it.” He straightened, his dark gaze flashing. “Are you okay?”

“You could’ve warned me about what kind of discomfort to expect.”

“And what would be the fun in that?” His lips quirked up and he waved at the path leading to the castle’s entrance. “After you.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

My sneakers squeaked on the shiny obsidian floor tiles, while glowing magical orbs stuck to the ceiling illuminated the path ahead of me. The black stone walls had engravings etched into the matte surface and appeared to move as the eerie light danced off them. The inside of Leviathan’s gothic-style castle looked just as intimidating as the outside. Long, dark corridors, high ceilings, old portraits in gilded frames of people long since passed and shadows around every corner.

Who were the people in the portraits? And who cleaned this place?

There wasn’t a cobweb in sight. Unless the furniture came to life and mopped the floors when no one was looking, someone had to clean. Even if spiders didn’t exist in the veil, dirt and dust certainly did.

I considered Leviathan’s broad back and wide shoulders as he ambled down the hallway ahead of me. I couldn’t picture him with a broom and dust bin. Nor could I picture him on all fours with a scrub brush.

Maybe he had the souls do the cleaning.

We turned down another hallway, this one lined with more portraits in ornate, gold-painted frames. While I got a personal tour of a magical castle in the veil, what was happening in the living realm? Had Logan, Brandon or Kang noticed my absence yet? Maybe they had, but did they realize I’d been abducted? And what about Steve? Was he scouring Murder Island for me or was he back at his cabin with his feet up and his rifle propped nearby ready to take me out if I walked through the door?

“Who are all these people?” I waved at the portraits, deciding to ask about them instead and take my mind off thoughts of home.

“People from long ago, so long the memories of them have faded and their souls have long since moved from these lands.” He flicked his hand at the next portrait we passed without pausing or hesitating.

He didn’t sound like he lied, but he definitely hid something—like his words, though true, wrapped around the truth instead of revealing it.

“Okay…”

“I have lived for a long time, Lark.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Sometimes memories are best to let go. Over time, they fade along with the pain.”

“A long time?” What a vague statement. Did he even know how many years had passed in the living realm?

“Yes.”

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